She was seventeen, and enjoying a rare free day out in the city. Her current demon, the succubus Domina, bounded along a few steps behind, winking at every male passerby. Hilde had spent the morning at Duncan's Textile shop, studying the creation of enchanted clothing. She'd learned early on, among the warlocks there was no free rides. Earning money to pay your own way was mandatory, and between adventuring in the nearby realms and sewing jobs, Hilde made enough to get by.
Spring had barely touched the southern kingdom, and chill winds still blew through the cobbled streets, but merchants and vendors continued to hawk their wares. The droning buzz was comforting. It spoke to a city full of life, unlike the forgotten lands of the north that still haunted her dreams.
Hilde pulled her cloak tight around herself, her footsteps automatically turning across the stone causeway and into the cathedral district. The massive cathedral of light hummed with activity. Motioning Domina to remain outside, Hilde joined the throng moving up the worn stone steps and into the interior.
She turned to the right, to the small alcove packed with candles. Slipping a silver piece to the altar boy in attendance, she took a candle and lit it, placing it amongst the others. Every free day she came to the cathedral and lit a taper for Christof. In the years she'd been in Stormwind, she'd never heard from the paladin. Vivian had often remarked on the foolishness of hope, and mocked her continued visits to the cathedral, but had never expressly forbidden it.
"The traitor prince has risen in the North, and given his whole land to the Scourge. You really think there is a chance your benefactor escaped his grasp?"
Hilde inclined her head, murmuring a short prayer before moving aside. The alcove was always busy since the depths of Arthas' treachery had become widely known. Even the most bitter adventurers came to pray for their families and friends left behind in the north.
Back out into the chill spring air, Hilde called to Domina and started for the Magic Quarter. Abruptly she stopped, as a strange figure appeared, weaving back and forth through the benches outside the cathedral. He had long gray hair, with flowers stuck in half-hazardly. His robe appeared to be cut from grain sacks and roughly sewn together. He shuffled around the benches, raising his hands and nodding at the passers-by, a beatific smile etched on his face. Hilde bolted down the steps, grabbing the man's arm.
"Simon? Simon, is that you?"
The seemingly elderly man turned bright eyes to her face, a look of confusion crossing his face, replaced with the beaming smile again. "Little Hilde! I remember you…well, not many little girls with white hair out there, for sure." Trembling hands touched her face, then tapped the side of her nose. "I don't remember the jewelry though."
Hilde chuckled. "All the young warlocks are getting them. But when did you get here? Is…is everyone here?"
The shadow of confusion crossed Simon's face again. "Everyone? Here? I don't know what you mean. And when did you get so tall? Did you have a growth spurt overnight?"
Hilde drew back slightly. "Simon…it's been six years since I saw you."
"Oh yes, years," Simon laughed slightly. "I forget things sometimes. Things…are foggy." He looked at her hopefully. "Buy me a pint or two, for old time's sake?"
"Sure," Hilde said, snapping her fingers. Domina giggled and leaned close.
"Mistress, he is old and soft in the head. Still, he may be good for something." The succubus wrinkled her nose. "But make him bathe first."
"Domina, go to the Canal Tavern and get us a table." She handed her demon several coins. "Tell them I want ale waiting."
Domina flicked her wings and disappeared into the crowd. Hilde took Simon's arm, pulling slightly in the direction of the canals. He went along happily, continuing to murmur softly. When they finally reached the Canal Tavern and the first tankards of ale were before him, he dove in like a famished creature. Hilde sat back on the grimy bench, Domina in the shadows behind, watching the paladin slurp up the booze. When he finally paused for breath, she leaned forward, placing one hand over his.
"Simon, it is wonderful to see you again, but I want to know what happened to the company. Christof…told me you were headed north to join Arthas' campaign in Northrend."
"I've never been in the North, no, no, no," Simon muttered, shaking his head. "I travel spreading the word of the light. The Light is everywhere, even in the rain, and in the flowers." He pulled a flower from his hair, laying it on her palm. Hilde clenched her fist, crushing it.
"Soft in the head, Mistress," Domina whispered.
Hilde sat back, tapping a finger against her lips. Simon continued sucking down the ale, almost oblivious to her presence. Finally, she leaned forward again, her eyes narrowed.
"Simon," she said, straining to shift her voice back into the squeak of childhood, "we had so much fun out on patrol! Remember those days in Alterac?"
"Of course! Trying to hunt the deer, shooting the trees instead," Simon smiled, dropping the tankard. "Ah those were the days, carefree. Kill the bad, be the hero." He sighed. "The Light has a strange sense of humor sometimes, little one."
"How do you mean?" Hilde asked, opening her eyes wide. "Did something happen?"
"It's like it happened to someone else," Simon finally muttered, sipping at the edge of the tankard. "Race to the Northern staging area. Horses exhausted. Prince on the boats, lashing the rowers, cursing the winds. Cold…so cold. Snow everywhere. Weird creatures."
"So you made it to Northrend?" Hilde asked.
"Why do you want to know this?" Simon asked, a plaintive note entering his voice. "Past is past. In the great burning of the Light, all the bad just goes away. No need to dwell on the unpleasant."
"I never knew you were a coward, Simon Magebane," Hilde said coldly.
"Coward is a word that only burns the first time. Repetition gets you used to it."
"I want to know what happened to your Captain!" Hilde snapped, shoving the tankard at the decrepit paladin. To her shock, he burst into tears.
"Cap…Captain Christof. There was a man of the Light!"
Hilde drew in her breath sharply. "He's dead?"
Simon rubbed a hand over his face, smearing his tears over his weathered cheeks. "Light knows, girl. Only the Light knows. We were on the glacier, the Prince called it Icecrown. He'd been driving us up there, cutting down men who tried to slow him down with this hideous sword he'd found. The one day he had all the men gather up in formation. Cap…it was the only time I'd ever seen him afraid. He told us to stay in the far back, with our horses ready to go, and he stood in the front. He even gave his blessed mace to Thorivald, with instructions to bring it to him if anything went wrong."
"And then?" Hilde asked.
"The Prince came out of his tent, only it wasn't him anymore. It was a monster! He mowed through the ranks, butchering his own men! And then…" Simon shook his head violently. "The corpses rose at his command, to attack the living! And every one who died, rose to help him kill the others."
Hilde sat back, numb horror spreading through her limbs. She could see the tableau in her mind, hearing the desperate screams as fresh as if she was still hiding against the cottage in Caer Darrow. It took a moment to realize Simon was still speaking.
"I heard the Cap calling to Thorivald, but he was already running and gone. And I…I ran." He sobbed. "I rode my horse until it died underneath me, and then I ran. I got off that blasted glacier, and back to the base camp. That's where the other survivors were. The boats were gone…burned to ashes. We finally managed to find a goblin ship hiding in a cove and bartered passage back to the Eastern Kingdoms. I swore to the Light, if I made it back, I would dedicate myself to the word. I gave my armor to the goblins and started on the path." The beatific smile slipped back on his face. "The Light will forgive me my transgressions, if I serve faithfully."
Hilde rocked slightly, her arms wrapped around her chest. She finally forced her numb lips to move. "Why did you come to Stormwind?"
"Thorivald said we should. I didn't mind wandering the wilds spreading the word, but he wanted to report back to paladin order."
"Thorivald…is here?" Hilde hissed. Her eyes flicked upwards, as two armored paladins came in. They looked over the tavern, noticed their table, and moved towards them.
"Simon, there you are!" the first said heartily, clapping his hand on his shoulder. "Gave us quite a scare, disappearing like that. Thank you, miss, for taking care of him. He's due to leave for Northshire Abbey. The priests there think they can help him."
"I like the grapes there. The Light is in the grapes," Simon sighed, tipping back the rest of his tankard. The second paladin pulled him to his feet.
"Yes, Simon, the Light is everywhere." They pulled him towards the door.
"Wait, Simon!" Hilde called, standing up. "I would love to catch up with Thorivald…where is he staying?"
Simon looked back over his shoulder, waving at her. "Goodbye, little Hilde. May the Light bless you!"
Hilde slammed her hand down on the table, gouging her nails deeply into the rough planking. She bit her lip hard, tasting the hot blood. The image of Thorivald running while Christof called for help tormented her. Even the thought of him being in the same city made her stomach ache.
"Domina," she growled. "I want you to find this man. A dwarf paladin called Thorivald Irongrip. Check the Dwarven District first, and all the ale houses in the city. Return to me when you have found him."
Back in the warlock stronghold behind the Slaughtered Lamb, the hours crawled by. Hilde struggled to manage her fury, but the white hot rage was preferable to the gnawing tendrils of grief that struggled to manifest. She went through her lessons in a daze. Even Vivian noticed, pausing briefly after a cursing practical.
"It looks like the demon blood is finally starting to win," she lisped.
It was three endless days later when Domina reappeared. Hilde dropped her books immediately, jumping up to shut the door to her small room.
"He is staying at a dive in the Old Town, Mistress," Domina giggled, fluffing her hair with one hand. "The Pig and Whistle. He already has quite a reputation for running through the wenches in the area. It looks as if he plans to stay for some time."
Hilde dropped to her bed, her mind racing. "Did he see you, Domina?"
"Of course not, Mistress."
"Good." Hilde opened her closet, pulling out a voluminous cloak. She handed it to her demon, who regarded it with some amusement.
"Put it on. Make sure your demon features are covered. I want you to go to the Pig and Whistle tonight. Buy the dwarf ale. Get him drunk. Seduce him. When the bells ring the eleventh hour, take him outside into the alleyway."
"Yes, Mistress." Domina swung the cloak around her form and vanished. Hilde knelt and opened her trunk, searching amidst the folds of cloth. Finally, her fingers found her target. Glittering in the soft light was the knife she'd taken from Scholomance. She stroked the blade gently before slipping it into the sheath around her waist.
Bribing the night watchman inside the Slaughtered Lamb was easy. A few silver, and he let her pass into the darkness. Hilde pulled her dark cloak up over her bright hair, and slid through the empty streets towards the Old Town. The only sounds in the black were the brief raucous calls from the taverns, and the plaintive calls from the women of the evening.
The Pig and Whistle was easy to find. Besides being the largest inn in the quarter, it was brightly lit in defiance of the shabby surroundings. Hilde moved into the cool shadows of the alleyway across from the tavern, her fingers drifting to her knife. Her entire body felt flushed, and her stomach clenched tight.
The great bells struck eleven, and two shapes appeared in the doorway. Domina led the way, her dark eyes glittering. Behind her, a smaller, squat shape that seemed completely absorbed with patting her on the behind. Hilde hissed between her teeth. The dwarf had aged, but no where near as much as Simon. As she watched, Domina giggled and turned, pulling him towards the alley.
"Ye like it in strange places, lass," Thorivald drawled, a drunken slur punctuating his words. "I got a nice bed upstairs for a good bounce. Nice and warm."
"It's more exciting out here," Domina purred. She flicked her eyes at her mistress, pulling the dwarf past her and into the shadows. "I promise you won't be disappointed."
Hilde took a deep breath and stepped after them, as Thorivald's hands disappeared inside Domina's cloak. "Let see what you've got hidden in here…By the Light!"
Thorivald threw the succubus away from him, grabbing for the weapon at his waist. Hilde growled, automatically whispering the silencing curse. Thorivald spat, gesturing with his hammer. His eyes swiveled to the warlock.
"One of you demon spawn!" He threw his head back and laughed, reeling drunkenly against the stones. "I haven' had the fun of killin' one of you in years!"
Hilde moved her hands up, pulling back the hood. "You cowardly bastard. I'm not a little girl anymore, and you will pay for Christof's death."
"Little Hilde," Thorivald growled. He whirled, his hammer lashing out. It caught Domina across the legs, crumpling the succubus to the ground. She screamed out breathlessly, balling up on the cobblestones. Thorivald spat on her, kicking the helpless demon.
"Up to your old tricks, aren't you, demon. Trying to seduce the good men of the Light. The poor Captain, you poisoned him with your evil. All that was left of his goodness was buried in his hammer." Thorivald waved his weapon in the air, before burying it in Domina's side. She cried out again, her hands stretching out towards her mistress. "He deserved what he got. He was judged, and his sins punished." Thorivald laughed again, the chill sound echoing off the stones. "This beauty was too precious to waste on a dead man."
Hilde drew herself up straight, her eyes flashing. "I would agree."
Thorivald lunged at her, only to reel backwards from her shadowy blast. Hilde's lips twisted, every curse she'd ever learned flying from her lips. Thorivald shook under the onslaught, struggling to reach her. Hilde spread her fingers wide, summoning up every drop of shadow energy in her body to lash the dwarf. He finally dropped under the barrage, balling up with a hoarse cry inches away from her feet.
Hilde grabbed him around the throat, feeling the blessed demon strength flow through her body. She lifted the dwarf, propping him against the wall. She removed the hammer from his hand, dropping it to the ground with a thud. She slid the blade from its sheath, turning it so the steel glittered under the stars.
"What did you say to me, that you would make it quick?" Hilde leaned close, her lips nearly touching Thorivald's ear. "I won't make it quick. You deserve every bit for what you tried to do to me, and for leaving Christof to die!"
She felt strength swell through her form, and slammed her hand over his mouth, muffling his cries. She barely noticed her hand was now a violet claw, digging into his flesh. With a roar of triumph she slammed her blade into his chest. Thorivald jerked, his eyes widening behind her hand. Hilde growled and slammed her knife again and again into his chest. The paladin struggled weakly in her grip. Finally, Hilde threw the knife away, driving her hand up into his chest to close around his fluttering heart.
"How I have dreamed of this," she panted, her voice rasping. She released his face, her claws just touching his skin. "And now…" Long purple ribbons of energy began to flow. Thorivald screamed, his heart pounding in her grip.
"Captain…Christof…what would he think!" he gurgled. Hilde laughed hysterically, her hand clenching tightly. Thorivald's heart burst in her grip, dousing her arm with blood. Her other hand closed on the smooth shard of soul, as his body slid down the wall.
"You are dismissed, Domina," Hilde said coldly, snapping her fingers. The struggling succubus vanished with a soft wail. Hilde brought her hand to her face, her tongue licking the bits of blood and flesh from her fingers.
"Bravo, my dear!" a voice called. Hilde looked up sharply, to see Vivian leaning at the edge of the alley. She stepped delicately over the spreading pools of blood.
"Finally you are a true warlock," she purred. "You have slain an enemy, and rejoiced in his destruction. I saw you transform."
Hilde stepped back, abruptly seeing her blood-drenched hands and the slumped body at her feet, tasting flesh in her mouth. She gagged, spitting desperately. Vivian laughed, tossing back her braids.
"There's nothing to be upset about. You finally accepted what you are."
"I'm not like this!" Hilde cried, stepping back further.
Vivian shook her head. "Don't deny it, Hilde. I saw the rapture on your face. You enjoyed killing that man. You finally allowed your demonic side some release. Embrace it!"
Hilde's eyes strayed back to the mutilated body on the ground. In the semi-dark, Thorivald looked smaller then she remembered, and his eyes still bulged in his final terror. She fought against the desire to smile just at the memory of his cries. Just beyond him, the forgotten hammer shone with a soft golden light. It was an icy wave over her heart. All the times she'd helped polish it, had watched it for hours while riding behind Christof, to see it gleaming in the puddle of blood in a filthy alley. Hilde felt a hideous wrench deep in her heart.
She whirled and ran through the alley, shoving her way past the thugs and whores. The stench of the blood coating her rose, clotting in her nostrils. She skidded to her knees, vomiting, then struggled up to throw off the helping hands. In a daze, she ran. It was the stench of birds that finally focused her attention. She was on the gryphon platform high above Stormwind, and a sleepy Gryphon Master was asking her where she wanted to go.
"North. As far North as you can send me."
